70 Years
by CakeTops
Summary: In a world where each wizard has a soul mate, Harry knew all too well that you could find yours in the most unexpected places. He just didn't expect to find his in the form of 18 years old Steve Rogers after a cursed amulet sends him back 70 years in the past. Mpreg. Slash. Full summary inside.


**Summary** : In a world where each wizard has a soul mate, Harry knew all too well that you could find yours in the most unexpected places. He just didn't expect to find his in the form of 18 years old Steve Rogers after a cursed amulet sends him back 70 years in the past.

Steve Rogers has grown up denying his urges towards men, but when faced with the mysterious new worker at the local grocery store, denying seemed no longer possible. There was just something about Harry Potter that made his heart beat. Harry's obvious reciprocation of his feelings didn't help either.

Despite the unforgiving era they live in, both boys thought they were going to be forever. That is until Harry disappears one beautiful Monday morning, never to be seen again. Consumed with grief by the loss of his lover, Steve decides to sacrifice himself by participating in the military's Super Soldier Project where the chance of survival is less then 50%. What happened next is something not even he could predict.

Luckily, Fate isn't that cruel as to tear them apart forever. 70 years have passed and it is time for the two lovers to reunite. Accepting Steve back in to his life was going to be easy but Harry wondered how he'll ever be able to tell him about the child they had managed to create.

 **A\N:** 1) Reposting from Tumblr. Contains Parts 1, 2 and 3. **This story will be updated here too** so feel free to follow the story here.

* * *

A/N: This is a work of fiction meaning it does represent what I as a person 's core beliefs have been modified a little to fit the plot. You will see what I mean.

 ** _PART 1-1_**

 ** _New York, 1943_**

 ** _Steve_**

"You remember Linda? I was thinking of asking her out," said Bucky Barnes, taking another bite out of his watermelon slice. He smiled over at Steve, trying for playful but only managed constipated. His heart was obviously not in it.

It was summer 1943; the weather was hot and unforgiving and peoples' morale was at a low as the conflicts in Europe continued to escalate. The Allies were finally closing in on German forces but even then, the death toll increased with every passing second. Steve knew that with President Roosevelt's decision to enter the US in the ongoing war, it wouldn't be long before more and more young American men would be drafted to fight for their country; fight against the tyranny of a mad man with a grudge. With all that said, Bucky was going to be drafted for sure while Steve was probably going to be passed over due to the litany of medical issues he suffered.

He didn't know if he should be disappointed or relieved.

But that was not the point. The point was, Steve wondered how Bucky could still act so…normal when he could be forced to leave his home at a moment's notice.

"It's an honor to be able to fight for our country," Bucky had once told him. "An honor."

An honor indeed, Steve scoffed. So much blood; so much anger; so many innocent life lost. Everyone seemed to think that war is inevitable, but Steve wondered if that was really true. Sacrifices have to be made, even if those sacrifices included the strategic bombing of entire cities. Looking at it from a different point of view, it felt less of an honor and more of a delayed execution.

"Steve?"

"I'm sorry," Steve replied, looking away from the window. He wandered when he had begun to have those thoughts; un-American, some would say; others may even call it traitorous. He coughed a little and ignored Bucky's worried look. "I'm fine. You were saying?"

"Linda," Bucky repeated, smile a little more natural now – or was he getting better at acting? Steve didn't know.

"Yes, Linda," Steve forced a smile, "Go, ask her out. She'll say yes."

He tried to sound confident even though he had no idea who Linda was. Bucky must have talked about her at some point, but lately Steve had been feeling restless, as if his body knew something big was going to happen and couldn't wait. It was stupid, Steve was sure, which was why he did not confide in anyone, not even Bucky. Besides, it was probably the gloomy atmosphere around New York that was messing with his head.

"Steve! Do you even know who I am talking about?" Bucky protested, looking a little offended at Steve's lack of attention.

Steve shrugged, no reply in mind.

Bucky huffed.

"You know Rogers, just be warned; see if I'll be supportive when you find yourself a nice girl whom you want to ask out."

And wouldn't that be a kicker.

Steve resisted the urge to wince.

 _That won't ever happen_ , he thought bitterly, _because my ideal lover wouldn't be a girl_. His attraction to his own gender was a secret Steve kept at the bottom of his heart; not only was it illegal for two men to be together, Steve didn't know how his family…how Bucky will react. Rejection was something he had never been good at dealing with and having Bucky or his mother reject him would kill him.

So, he gave Bucky a mock glare before standing up. He felt suddenly caged in this small room, with the metaphorical elephant sucking out all the air. He needed to get out before he did something to reveal himself.

Bucky let him go without a comment but Steve knew his best friend wasn't done with the conversation. He sighed, going to find his mother instead.

"Oh?" his mother said in surprise when Steve asked her if she wanted him to bring something back from the General Store, "You're voluntarily going shopping? Steve sweetie, are you sick?"

Steve laughed.

"Not at all," he tried to sound normal, "I want to take a walk and I thought I could kill two birds with one stone."

"Alright dear."

A shopping list was pressed in to his hands.

"Don't take too long dear. I need the groceries for dinner."

Steve forced a smile.

"Of course not mother," he said. He really did understand just how precious time was.

* * *

 ** _Part 1-2_**

 ** _New York 1943_**

 ** _Harry_**

Harry was feeling restless. He didn't know why he was feeling this way, but he was. He shuffled from one feet to another while standing behind the counter, watching absent-mindedly as customers came in and out. People watching wasn't nearly as fun when you were feeling as if your skin was about to crawl off.

The thing was, despite all the trouble he often finds himself in, Harry had never been a hyperactive person. He liked calm most of all and can sit quietly with a good book for hours on end. With all that said, this feeling of utter unrest was making him uneasy. Was he finally showing one of the side effects of being thrown unwillingly back in time?

"Are you okay, lad?" asked Mr. Kent, coming over to the counter. He gave Harry an extremely critical look, his hands on his hips. He reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley for some reason and the image nearly made him burst in to uncontrollable laughter.

"I'm fine," Harry lied instead, not wanting to answer questions he himself did not know the answer to.

He fidgeted again.

"You don't look fine," Mr. Kent sighed, passing a hand through his greying hair. It was a little longer than the way most men wore it these days but it looked good on him. "You seem extremely distracted."

"I'm really sorry," said Harry, "It must be that I'm still not used to being in a foreign country."

This got him a small smile.

"I understand," said Mr. Kent, "Well, take it easy for the first few days."

He gave Harry a last smile before going over to helping a customer with her choice of bread.

Harry's first day of work in 1943 New York passed slowly. Time seemed to crawl by and with each passing minute, his unrest grew. By lunchtime, he was so restless that he ended up sweeping the entire store for something to do. Mr. Kent had been delighted.

At 1, they closed for lunch.

"I won't be coming back after lunch," said Mr. Kent, taking a bite out of his sandwich, "I need to visit my friend at the hospital. Do you think you can take care of the shop for a few hours?"

"I'm sure I can," Harry replied, earnest in his determination to show his benefactor that he was capable of being a good assistant.

"Good," Mr. Kent beamed at him, "Good."

They talked amiably as they ate, making sure to stay away from more serious and depressing topics such as the war. They talked about Mr. Kent's old assistant and Harry's imaginary cousin. It wasn't that hard all things considered. All Harry had to do was describe Hermione in detail; after all, she was the closest to a female relative Harry had.

When all the food had been consumed, Mr. Kent went up the stairs to the small living space Harry had spent the night. He came down 5 minutes later dressed to go out.

After Mr. Kent had left and Harry had turned the closed sign to open, the young man returned to his counter. He messed around with the rag for a few seconds, hoping someone would just come in already before pausing when he actually heard the front door open.

He looked up.

Blue meets green.

The customer who had just came in was young; no older then 18. He was blond, thin and was far from classically handsome. But none of that mattered because at that moment, he was the most beautiful person Harry had ever laid his eyes on.

"Oh," he thought.

Now it made sense…

All the restlessness had been his magic's way of telling him he was about to meet his soul mate.

Harry knew that you can find your soul mate in the oddest places. Examples include finding your soul mate after saving him/her from drowning or finding your soul mate after meeting her/him when he/she was about to marry your father/mother. That possibility didn't happen often but it just goes to show how unpredictable Fate can be. But even so, finding your soul mate after being thrown 70 years in to the past must set a new record for weird.

"Hmm."

Realizing that he had been staring at the boy for the past 5 minutes, Harry blushed scarlet before quickly uttering out a "Welcome."

"Hello," the other young man replied, looking unsure, "I have never seen you before."

"I'm new," Harry explained, unable to resist the urge to step a little closer to his other half. "Harry Potter at your service."

"Steven Rogers," was the reply. As they shook hands, Harry couldn't help but wonder why that name had sounded so familiar.

"Steven," he said, smiling, a little reluctant to let go. But he made himself do so anyway. Steven was obviously a muggle, thus did not feel as strongly as Harry. And with the way he was biting his lips, he reminded Harry of a scared rabbit about to bolt. Harry had just found him, there was no way he was letting him escape.

"Steve," the boy corrected, "I prefer Steve."

"Of course," Harry gave him another brilliant smile and was rewarded with a tentative shy smile of his own. "Now Steve, how may I help you?"

It took Steve a moment to get his mind back in to gear.

"Oh, yes, of course," he fumbled with his pocket and extracted a piece of paper. He handed it over to Harry.

It was a shopping list.

For the next few minutes, Harry dutifully assembled everything that was on the list, making sure to choose only the best for Steve. Once all the groceries Steve had asked for were in a paper bag, he handed it over and received cash in return.

"Thank you," Steve said and for a moment, none of them spoke. Harry was happy to note that his other half seemed reluctant to leave, even when he was feeling awkward.

"Are you a regular here?" Harry asked, wanting to know more.

"I…yes," Steve replied, smiling, "I usually come here for my mother."

"Then I'll see you soon right?" Harry pressed.

Steve nodded eagerly.

"Yes, of course," he replied, "I'll see you soon."

With nothing else to say, he gave Harry a grin before exiting the shop, the door closing behind him with a small thump.

With him gone, Harry did not resist the urge to do the happy dance.

His soul mate. He had found his soul mate.

Suddenly, he didn't feel so angry anymore towards the woman who had stuck him in this era.

* * *

 ** _Part 1-3_**

 ** _New York, 1943_**

 ** _Steve_**

Attraction of this scale was something Steve had never felt before. Sure he had found some guys attractive before – including Bucky he was loathed to admit on account of him being like a brother – but never had it incited such a reaction in him. Steve could still feel Harry's hand in his own, his soft smile, his smooth voice. Steve's heart was beating a thousand miles per hour. Was this what love at first sight felt like?

He didn't know what about Harry made him so different from any other guy Steve had ever met. Harry….Harry was special. Steve had never wanted to be with someone before; none of them had seemed to be worth the risk of getting caught and thrown in prison. But Harry would be worth it; Steve knew it from the bottom of his heart. And that realization scared him more then he was willing to admit.

Too deep; too fast; half of Steve – the cowardly half – wanted to ignore it and hope it would go away. The other half however wanted to pursue this and see where it went.

Luckily, the braver part of him was winning.

Bucky was still there when he got home. Steve didn't even acknowledge him as he handed the groceries to his mother and went straight up to his room. He fell face down on his bed, buried his face in his pillows and let out an inhumane cry.

"Oh wow," said Bucky. Steve heard the door close behind him. "What has gotten in to you?"

"Nothing," was Steve's muffled reply, "Nothing at all."

There was no way he was telling Bucky anything. Bucky would either laugh at him or worse, refuse to be his friend anymore.

"It's not nothing," Bucky insisted, sitting beside him, "Tell me."

"It's nothing," Steve insisted. It was far from nothing, Steve thought to himself, it was everything; everything he thought he had ever wanted; completeness, love, acceptance…

Steve let out an almost dreamy sigh.

He knew he had made a mistake when Bucky grew silent.

"Bucky?"

"You met someone," said Bucky, sounding confident, "I know that look. You'll in love."

"Woah," Steve sprung in a sitting position and stared at him, "What are you talking about?"

"You met someone," Bucky repeated, "Tell me about them?"

Steve's eyebrows arched in confusing.

"Them?"

Bucky shrugged, a little uneasy.

"I don't want to presume that it's a girl."

Steve's heart stopped as fear gripped him in its iron grip.

Oh God, oh God, was the mantra running through his head. He knows! Bucky knows! What am I going to do?

"Steve," Bucky snapped, "Steve! I am not going to report you. You're my best friend. I think this particular law is stupid anyway and you should be allowed to be with whoever you want."

"Really?" Steve asked breathily. After a life time of hearing that homosexuality was wrong and that people who were are condemned to Hell, Bucky's easy acceptance and unconditional love was a breath of fresh air. "Thank you."

"Well," Bucky scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, "Don't make me do all this emotional shit again Rogers."

"Of course not," Steve reassured him and resisted the urge to bring Bucky in for a hug.

"So," Bucky said after a while, "Am I right to presume it's a him?"

Steve let out a sigh.

"His name is Harry," he said, words coming out as easily as breathing, "I met him today at the Store. He's Mr. Kent's new assistant. God Bucky, there was just something about him. I have never felt this way before; one look and my heart was beating like a tambourine."

"Love at first sight," said Bucky, somewhat enviously, "Never thought it was real."

"It was indeed real."

Steve grinned.

"What about him?" Bucky asked, "Do you think he'll reciprocate?"

Steve nodded his head. For some reason, that was something he had never doubted.

"Are you going back to see him?"

"Of course," said Steve, "I was thinking of going on Friday. I don't have work then."

"I'll come with you," said Bucky, "I want to see the man who had captured my best friend's heart."

"Bucky!" Steve protested, blushing. "Please."

Bucky laughed.

Friday came too slow for Steve's liking. Around 10 that morning, he got another shopping list from his surprised mother and set off for the store with Bucky in tow. They walked in silence, Steve being way too nervous for any small talk.

"Take a breath," Bucky instructed when they had finally reached the General Store.

Steve gave him a smile and pushed open the door.

"Greetings," said a voice.

"Mr. Kent!" Steve said, a little disappointed that Harry was no where in sight.

"Steven!" Mr. Kent boomed, "So good to see you! How is your dear mother?"

"She's doing fine," Steve replied, somewhat impatiently. Where was Harry?

"I heard you got yourself a new assistant," said Bucky coming out from behind Steve.

"James!" Mr. Kent gave him a big smile as well, "You look fantastic."

"Thank you," Bucky replied, preening, "You look great as well; that hairstyle makes you look at least 10 years younger."

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Bucky had always been a little obsessed about his appearance.

"Mr. Kent," Steve interrupted, "Is Harry here today?"

"Oh Harry," he smiled at Steve, "He is. He's doing some washing upstairs. I need to run an errand today so I was thinking about closing the shop. Do you boys need anything before I go?"

"Steve," Bucky said, "Why don't you go up to say hi to Harry, I'll take care of your list for you."

Steve sent Bucky a truly grateful smile.

"And feel free to stay if you want," Mr. Kent continued, "It'll do Harry some good to know people his own age."

"Thank you," Steve managed to let out, unable to believe the opportunity he had been given.

With his heart hammering once more, Steve turned to go, Bucky's and Mr. Kent's conversation becoming less and less audible with each step.

* * *

 ** _Part 1-4_**

 _ **Explicit Scene Removed**_

* * *

 ** _Part 1-5_**

 ** _New York, 1943_**

 ** _Steve_**

The feeling of another male body – Harry's body – curled up with him was a new sensation but one Steve knew he could get addicted to soon. He smiled lazily to himself, the small ache in his ass a glorious reminder of what they had did the previous night. Harry had felt fantastic inside him and Steve couldn't wait to have him again.

After their initial coupling, they went another few rounds until Harry sank down next to him, exhausted. Steve was tired too, but since Harry had been doing all the work, it must be worse for him. At the thought, Steve let out a small laugh and felt Harry's arms tighten around him in response.

"What's so funny?" Harry grumbled.

"Nothing," Steve replied, high on love, "But as much as I want to stay here, shouldn't we get up soon? Mr. Kent might be back."

Harry grumbled but complied, getting up from the sofa as naked as the day he was born. Steve couldn't help but marvel at the perfection that was Harry's naked form. Unlike him, Harry was lean and muscled. He was obviously in good heath and maintained an active life style.

"What?" Harry asked, catching Steve looking at him.

"Nothing," Steve replied, unable to stop smiling.

They quickly cleaned themselves with a wash cloth before getting dressed. Then Steve went downstairs as Harry tried to quickly finish his task before Steve had arrived.

Steve let out a contented sigh, so distracted that he nearly jumped when Mr. Kent entered the shop, laddered down with bags.

"Oh Steve," he sounded surprised, "You're still here."

"I hope I'm not intruding," he said.

Mr. Kent laughed.

"Don't worry," he assured him, "You can come here anytime you want."

Steve talked pleasantly with Mr. Kent for about 10 minutes before Harry came down.

"Mr. Kent," he smiled, "I finished the washing. Welcome back."

Steve could feel the heat coming off Harry's body as he stood behind him.

He smiled.

Life was finally starting to look up.

The next few weeks passed like a dream. Steve spent every waking moment with Harry, rushing there after work, even opting to stay the night. Mr. Kent was always happy to see him and left them alone most of the time. Bucky was amused by how whipped Steve was but since he had finally gotten the courage to ask Linda out, he was also having the time of his life.

But Steve knew, deep down, that in a time of war, time was limited.

On Monday morning, exactly a month after he had met Harry, Bucky came to Steve's house with the news that he had been drafted and would be leaving. Steve didn't know if he was more angry or relieved. Not that he wanted Bucky to go, but the wait had been taking a toll on him.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked for what felt like the 1000th time.

"Yes," Bucky smiled sadly, "It's an honor, Steve. Remember that."

"Ok," Steve said. And that was that.

That night, Steve spend an hour crying in to Harry's shirt.

"He's my best friend," he said softly, as Harry rubbed his back with one hand. "I don't want him to leave."

"I know," Harry murmured soothingly, "I know."

Steve suddenly stopped his movements and looked up sharply.

"You won't leave me right," he said almost desperately. Losing Bucky felt like a kick in the gut but Steve knew that if he ever lost Harry, he wouldn't survive. In the short month they had been together, Harry had become his world. The amount of love he felt for the man sometimes felt too much and would make Steve choke on the strength of his own emotions.

"No," Harry replied, kissing him on the cheek, "I'm not going to leave you. Not if I can help it."

"Good," Steve closed his eyes, "Harry?"

"Yes," Harry asked.

"Would you let me fuck you tonight? I want to be inside you."

"Of course," Harry replied easily, "I would love that."

"Ok," Steve said, "Good."

He held on to Harry tightly, trying to ignore the unease that was starting to build up in his brain.

The morning after Bucky's departure, Harry disappeared and no amount of time spent searching for him could find him.

10 days later, Steve was approached by a certain Dr. Erskine and asked to participate in Project rebirth.

"But I must warn you," said the man, "The chances of you surviving this operation are less then 50%."

Steve smiled bitterly.

"Doctor," he replied, "I really don't have much to live for anymore."

* * *

 ** _Part 2-1_**

 ** _London, 2013_**

 ** _Harry_**

Harry woke up alone. That in itself was unusual enough ever since Steve had started spending the night with him, that it made Harry tense. He reached out a hand to Steve's side of the bed but only found cold sheets. His heart hammering, his eyes still closed as if he was too afraid to open them, he called out a trembling: "Steve?"

No reply.

"Steve!" Harry's eyes flew open and let out a choked sob as his room, his old room in 2013, came in to focus.

 _No…NO…NO!_

This wasn't happening! He couldn't be back. He just couldn't. Without his soul mate, the future held nothing for Harry. Even Ron and Hermione paled in comparison to the blond haired young man he had grown fast to love.

 _Please…Merlin….Please._

Oh Merlin, Steve was still back there. Harry could just imagine him waking up one morning to find Harry gone. Steve would try to search him and not finding him would crush his spirit.

 _Please…_

They were supposed to have forever together. They were supposed to move in together somewhere in the country, then grow old together. This…this couldn't be real.

But it was.

Harry did the only thing he could think of at the moment.

He screamed.

* * *

When Harry had sufficiently calmed from his earlier breakdown, he forced his tired body out of bed and in to the shower. Even the wonderful water pressure of 2013 shower technology did nothing to alleviate his mood. It was in a daze that he walked to the kitchen, wolfed down whatever he could find and collapsed on the sofa. He probably wouldn't be getting up soon.

A perfunctory glance at his cellphone – yes, he had a cellphone even if he was still working as an Auror – showed that barely a day has passed since his meeting with the mysterious woman. Ron and Hermione probably won't be back until next week so Harry was planning to wallow in his misery until his best friends inevitably came to look for him. No one really knew how losing one's soul mate will affect a wizard and Harry was beginning to wonder if he'll even survive this…if he wanted to survive this.

He sighed…before something struck him.

It was time travel and not dimension travel so Steve might still be alive out there. Sure he may be old (just over 88) but he would still be Steve and Harry would take him in any ways or form. He was his soul mate. With his heart in his throat, he grabbed for his cell and dialed the Muggle Prime Minister's personal number.

"Lord Potter," came the surprised greeting, "How may I help you?"

"I need a favour," Harry said, "I want some information about the current whereabouts of one Steven Rogers. He's an American citizen."

"Lord Potter," said the Prime Minister, "You know I can't…"

"Please," Harry said, "It's important."

Silence.

"Alright," the other man sighed, "I'll see what I can do. I'll call you back in about an hour."

Harry thanked him and hung up.

The next hour passed slowly. Harry tried to do some cleaning to clear his mind, but found himself unable to concentrate. After managing to break his 5th dish, he decided to simply sit down and wait.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone rang again.

"I got what you need," said the PM without preamble, "You better appreciate this Lord Potter because the American Government was none too pleased to have to disclose this."

"Of course," Harry said quickly.

"Alright," there was a sigh, "Steven Rogers joined the US Army during WWII and was in a plane that went down before the war ended. His body has never been recovered but he is most likely dead."

Harry could feel his entire body grow numb.

"Lord Potter," the PM said, "Lord Potter, are you there?"

The phone fell to the ground soundlessly as Harry fell to his knees and broke in to sobs.

Hadn't he suffered enough? Hadn't he sacrificed enough? Why was Fate being so cruel as to take away his only chance of happiness? His soul mate was gone. Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter anymore.

* * *

Ron and Hermione came back 4 days later to find Harry in his apartment. They had to beg him to open the door before he allowed them in.

"Dear God," said Ron, making a face, "What died in here?"

"Harry," Hermione ignored her husband and approached him, pulling him in to a hug. "Oh Merlin, Harry, what happened to you?"

Harry choked, burying his face in Hermione's shoulder. He found himself crying again. He wondered how that was possible considering how much time he had spent crying in the 4 past days.

"Shh," Hermione cooed, rubbing his back with one hand, "Shh, tell us what's wrong."

So he did.

He told them everything. He told them about the amulet; about the time traveling. Most importantly, he told them about Steve, about the joy at discovering that he had finally found his soul mate. He told them about the blissful 1 month he and Steve had spent together, getting to know each other. As he recalled each memory, each smile, so precious now that it was gone, Harry felt tearing something about.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, "Only you." She was smiling but it was a sad smile.

"I'm so sorry mate," said Ron, looking heart-broken for Harry, "I can't imagine what you must be feeling right now."

"Like my heart has been sliced open," Harry said, "And what's worse is knowing that Steve has…has died thinking that I had abandoned him after promising him a forever together."

"If it makes you feel any better," Hermione said softly, "This Steve of yours probably knew that you left unwillingly. Soul mates tended to know things like that about each other."

"Yeah, right," Harry mumbled unbelieving before a sudden urge to vomit hit him in the guts. "Shit."

"Harry!" Hermione cried out in alarm as Harry rushed in to the washroom. After he had gotten his stomach settled once more, he came out and sat down again, not looking at either of his friends.

"I'm fine," he said before they could say anything.

"You're not fine," Hermione snapped, "Vomiting out of nowhere is not fine. Did you drink?"

"No," Harry replied. For some reason, the smell of alcohol made him sick. He told Hermione so.

"I'm calling a Healer."

Harry began to protest but Hermione was hearing none of it. She made the call and 20 minutes later, a portly woman in her late 40s made her appearance. She introduced herself as Healer McCain and did a series of tests on Harry. After she was satisfied, she spent another 2 minutes reviewing her results before beaming at the trio.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," she boomed, "You're pregnant."

Harry blinked.

"Is that," he started, "supposed to be a joke?"

"Oh no," Healer McCain gasped, "I would never make jokes about pregnancies. It is possible, you know. You do know, right?"

She turned to Hermione and Ron and gave them a look.

"Harry had a muggle upbringing," Hermione said quickly, "He wouldn't know that it was possible for him to fall pregnant."

"Well it is," Healer McCain beamed at him once more, "Not extremely common but not impossible either. From what I can see, the baby is progressing beautifully. It's still way too early to tell the gender but I have a feeling it is going to be a girl."

"Thank you Healer," Ron said quickly, leading her out of the room to give Harry some space to breath.

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively once the room was empty once more. "The child. You are going to keep it right?"

"Of course I am," Harry snapped, arms circling his middle protectively, "It's the last thing I have of Steve; of course I'm going to keep him or her."

"Good," Hermione kissed him on the cheek, "Don't worry about a thing; we'll be here with you every step of the way."

* * *

The next day, Harry called Kingsley to resign.

"You're pregnant?" Kingsley sounded surprised but Happy none the less. "Are you sure you want to leave and not simply take a break?"

"Being an Auror had been great," Harry replied earnestly, "But I think it's time for me to move on to something else. This child is my world now; I hope you understand."

Mrs. Weasley's reaction to the news was similar to Hermione's in the sense that she wanted him to move to the Burrow as soon as possible so she can take care of him.

"You can't be on your own out there," she argued, "You need vitamins, potions, exercise. If you want your baby to come out happy and strong, you need to listen to me."

For the sake of the baby, Harry agreed. A day later, he moved in with Ron's parents.

Another week after he had settled back in to the Burrow, the news of Harry's pregnancy had, despite everyone's best efforts, spread like wildfire. Everyone, much to the boy's horror, from the lowest ministry employee to the Minister of Magic himself, knew that the boy-who-destroyed-Voldemort, aka The Savior of the Wizarding World, was knocked up. Luckily for Harry, the name of the father remained a secret, but that doesn't change the fact that people were aware that not only was Harry gay – something he hadn't exactly advertised – but there was now a child on the way.

The congratulations started pouring in by Monday, alone with an outrageous number of sexual advances from men despite Harry's supposedly "taken" status. Harry was taken aback by how well everyone was taking the news.

"Of course they're delighted Harry," Mrs. Weasley had told him when he had confided in her, "Being able to conceive a child while male is a sign that magic has bestowed upon you a great gift. You are favored in her eyes and it is the highest honor in the Wizarding world."

"Oh," Harry had replied, overwhelmed.

Being taken care off was nice and all, but Harry soon found himself bored to death. He took up music as an effort to divert his mind. That, however, didn't work for long.

"Look dear," Mrs. Weasley started as kindly as possible, "It's not that I don't like you finding things to do and I'm happy that you've found the joy of music, but do you really have to play in the house?"

Harry had been taken aback by her question and immediately asked her what she meant. It didn't take long for Mrs. Weasley to admit that the cacophony of noises that Harry cooked up every time he tried to play was making her go crazy.

A little bit embarrassed by the news, Harry decided to abandon music for other horizons.

* * *

A month after his arrival, Hermione came to visit him on a Monday afternoon and suggested to Harry that if he was so bored, he should help in rebuilding the society he now lives in after the disaster of Voldemort's reign. Politics has never been Harry's cup of tea, but having something to say in the construction of the new laws that would define the new order of things was actually pretty appealing.

"Are you sure they would listen to me?" he had asked. Sure he could ask of favours from heads of states with no problem, but going as far as influencing the laws was another question.

Hermione had looked at him weirdly at that.

"You really have no idea of the power you hold," she said, somewhat in awe of Harry's ignorance. "Harry, if you asked to be Minister of Magic tomorrow morning, I don't doubt you'll be in office by the end of the week."

If Harry had thought Hermione was joking, he was in for a rude awakening.

Hermione, like always, had been right. Despite the fact he was already 2 month pregnant – and it showed – people seemed to treat him like royalty. Whenever he opened his mouth, everyone fell silent to listen, no matter what he had to say. And all his suggestions were not only taken in to consideration, but sometimes put in to practice word by word. By Harry's third month of pregnancy, there wasn't any doubt in any one's mind, that Harry James Potter was running the magical government.

The Minister never took a step without asking for his opinion. The new Head of Wizengamot shared with him absolutely everything despite Harry not having the clearance. People bowed when they see him walk past; everyone called him Lord Potter-Black or simply my Lord. The Head Auror would visit him rather regularly to discuss battle strategies with him. And to Harry's astonishment, his suggestions were actually doing some good. The irony of this whole situation was that Harry Potter, the boy who had never wanted power, had achieved what power-hungry Tom Riddle had never managed. He was now the unofficial leader of the British Wizarding society.

Being someone so important came with more than just a little bit of responsibilities. Paperwork was now a constant in Harry's life. Apart from mind-numbingly reports he has to go through daily, Harry also had to make public appearances, sometimes even in other countries, on the behalf of Magical Britain.

It was a busy life but Harry was finally coping with Steve's death, something he hadn't even thought possible just a few month ago. He had a purpose now and a child to live for. He was sure, if Steve was still here, he would have been proud of Harry and what he had accomplished.

And life went on…

* * *

 _ **Part 2-2**_

 _ **New York, 2013**_

 _Steve_

Waking up in a strange place wasn't exactly new to Captain Steve Rogers. After all, being knocked out and kidnapped was practically an integral part of being a soldier, especially one as high profile as he was. But Steve had to admit, waking up when he had been sure he had died wasn't something that happened every day.

The man groaned, feeling his muscles protest a little as he tried to sit up in bed. The room he was in was small and familiar; it looked like one of those kind of infirmaries set aside for injured serviceman. Steve wondered just how long he had been here; how long he had been unconscious. The last thing he remembered was piloting that jet, and diving nose first in to the ocean.

A radio player softly in the background and Steve turned to look at it. It looked exactly like the one his parents had but something in his mind was telling him there was something wrong in this picture; something big.

It took him a while to realize what.

A woman walked in just as Steve had his epiphany. She was dressed in typical nurse garb, all white and carried a clipboard. Her smile may seem nice and genuine but Steve didn't even notice.

"Where am I?" He snapped, feeling his whole body tense as if he was about to get shot. Normally confronting a potential enemy when he himself was still so weak wasn't exactly the best tactical strategy but Steve was starting to get really tired of this bullshit. What he hated above everything was lies and cover-ups, and ever since he had joined the army, it seemed that they were the only things his higher ups fed him.

The woman actually had the gall to blink in confusion.

"You're in a recovery ward in New York City, Captain Rogers," she replied, gesturing around her.

"When am I then?" Steve asked, tightly controlled anger making his voice lower than usual.

"July 1945 Captain," the woman replied, "I don't understand your agitation."

Steve took a deep breath and pointed towards the radio.

"That game," he started slowly, "is from May 1941. I know because I was there. Now I ask you again, where am I?"

Almost immediately, the woman's face shut down. And just like that, the smiling nurse was gone, replaced by a seasoned soldier and one obviously no stranger to using force at that. While some men may look down upon her because she was a woman, Steve wasn't that stupid. He had served with Peggy Carter after all, and that woman was more hard core than a battalion of men combined.

Steve did the only thing that made sense to him in a situation where he had absolutely no intelligence on the factors defining the rules.

He got out of bed and ran.

As he ran, he ignored the shouts and cries behind him; he ignored the confirmation that his suspicions had been correct when the door the woman had come in didn't lead to the outside world but to an underground facility of some kind. He didn't care if he has no idea where he was going but he needed to go.

Finally; finally the exit seemed to be in front of him. Steve pushed the door open and step out…

…in to a whole new universe.

Shock made his steps stop to a halt as he turned around incredulously. This was obviously New York - judging purely by the street signs he could see - but this wasn't the New York he remembered. For one thing, there were too many cars and models that he has never encountered before. Huge windows with moving pictures were everywhere; woman wearing nothing but tank tops and short skirts paraded around without anyone batting an eye at their inappropriate attire.

Nothing was familiar anymore and it made Steve sick.

"Captain Rogers," he heard a man's voice behind him, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts. He slowly turned, body unconsciously going ramrod straight. The man was obviously military and judging by the suit clad figures respectfully keeping a distance from him, he was the leader.

"Who are you?" he asked softly.

"Nick Fury, Captain. I'm the Head of SHIELD."

"What's SHIELD?" was the immediate response.

"It's the new name for the Strategic Scientific Reserve team."

"Since when?" Steve asked, looking confused.

"Since the end of the war," was the answer. Steve could feel his heart rate accelerate at that.

"What does that mean?"

Nick Fury smiled. It looked slightly forced.

"Welcome to the 21th century Captain. You have been asleep for the past 70 years."

* * *

 ** _Part 2-3_**

 ** _London, 2013_**

 _Harry_

The last remaining month of Harry's pregnancy passed without any incident. Before the young man knew it, it was already end November and his due date was just around the corner. Since by then he was so big he could barely move without threatening to topple over, he was on enforced bed rest, much to his chagrin. Hermione, who had been tasked to babysit him during this time, was not amused by his sullen attitude. The only thing Harry could distract himself with was paperwork and that got old pretty fast. People treated him with kid-gloves, not willing to add even more stress to his current condition. What they didn't was that by trying so hard to walk on egg shells around him, they were troubling him even more.

"Hermione," Harry whined a few days before he was supposed to be due, "Can't I got take a walk or something? I've been stuck in this house for the past week. It's not like I'm going to give birth just because you let me walk around on my two feet."

"I'm not taking that risk," the young woman said strictly, her eyes not even leaving the romance novel she was reading. "If something goes wrong, it's my head on the pike."

"Hermione," Harry whined, unwilling to back down, "Please le-" He stopped short when he felt something that he had never felt before inside him. If Harry didn't know better, he would say his water was breaking.

Hermione didn't seemed to notice however, so focused was she in her plot. Harry nearly rolled his eyes at that. Typical when he needed Hermione to notice the most, the girl was oblivious to everything.

"Hermione," he tried to warn the girl but she interrupted him before he could speak.

"No Harry," she snapped, "go back to bed."

"But-"

"No means no!"

"HERMIONE GRANGER," he finally snapped, feeling even more wetness make way down his leg, "My BLOODY WATER JUST BROKE."

Hermione's book dropped on the floor.

Harry had a vindictive pleasure in seeing one of the pages crinkle due to the fall. He knew that once Hermione had calmed down, she would be pretty upset at the state of her novel. She had this weird obsession of keeping all her books in tiptop condition. Harry had never personally understood the urge. For him, books were made to be touched and used; a brand new book gave of the impression that its owner has never once opened it. A used book meant it was loved and frequently consulted. But since that's not the main focused point at hand, he will have to ask the young woman another time.

"Oh Merlin Harry!" Hermione shrieked, abruptly getting up from her chair and rushing over to him. She immediately saw the mess he had made on the carpet and started to freak out. "Oh Merlin! You're about to give birth! Call the Healer! Call the Healer!"

Harry froze.

"Hermione," he started as calmly as possible even though he was pretty sure he was the one who was supposed to be freaking out by this point, "We'll the only two here. Who are you ordering around?"

Hermione's eyes widened before springing in to action. She was on firecall with Harry's personal healer in two seconds time.

Harry resisted the urge to sigh in relief.

* * *

Luckily for Harry, the healer arrived pretty fast, complete with her medical bag and potions. She instructed Harry to lie on a mishit mattress she had just conjured – his own bed was way too high for her purposes – and asked him if he wanted potions to ease the pain of the delivery.

"Of course I do," Harry snapped, wondering who in their right mind would refuse such an offer. Despite what some might think, Harry wasn't a masochist; suffering pain when he could avoid it wasn't on his list of things he wanted to do.

The Healer didn't even blink at his tone, probably already used to the hormones of those who are about to give birth.

The potion she handed him tasted horrible, but Harry gulped it down quickly.

The effect was almost immediate.

"Oh Merlin," he gasped in wonder, "I can't feel my body anymore."

"Yes, that's what it was supposed to do," the Healer agreed with a satisfied nod, "Although I have to warn you; this will make the birth a little bit difficult since you won't know when you're pushing or not."

Harry didn't mind. As long as he didn't have to feel pain, he was happy.

About an hour later, the first order for Harry to start pushing was given. Harry tried his best but the Healer hadn't been kidding. Not being able to feel anything below his navel made pushing pretty difficult. Luckily for him, Hermione was there with him – Ron and the rest having decided to stay out until the baby was born – and she and the healer took turns ordering him to "PUSH HARDER." It was more than a little relief when it was over.

"Congratulations Lord Potter-Black," the healer said softly, handing over to Harry a small bundle after she had cleaned up the baby with a soft cloth – magic was not to be used on a new-born child unless it was an emergency, "You have a very healthy baby girl".

In Harry's opinion, despite the fact that his daughter had her face scrunched up and looked as if she was about to throw a tantrum anytime now, she was the most beautiful baby in the world. But since he knew all parents were required to think so of their offsprings, he was probably biased.

"Hey sweetie," he said a little tiredly but happier than he could remember ever being, "Welcome to the world."

"Oh she's beautiful," Hermione cooed from beside him, already reaching out a hand to touch the newly born infant. The little girl didn't cry but instead watched her with her enormous blue orbs, "And her eyes are incredible. I have never seen eyes these blue before."

"Her father's eyes were also this color," Harry admitted nostalgically, the ache at the thought of Steve no longer so prominent as before. Time really does heal some wounds.

"What is her name?" Hermione asked.

Harry actually blinked at that, truthfully having not decided what to call her yet. Sure he had perused some baby name books during the time he was pregnant but no name had actually stood out to him.

"I don't know," he said softly, "Maybe I should go with Mom's family's tradition of naming their daughters' after flowers or I could go with Sirius and name her after a constellation."

"Whatever her name is," his best friend said confidently, "I'm sure it'll be beautiful."

"Thanks Mione," Harry murmured, touched beyond words, "And I'm sorry for snapping at you all the time. You were only trying to help."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully at him.

"Oh please, that's so not your fault. When I fall pregnant, I'm sure I'll be even worse then you. Compared to what my mother was like, you were practically an angel."

Harry smiled again but didn't have time to reply when the door to the room opened and Mrs. Weasley peeked her head in.

"Can we see her yet?" she asked eagerly and Harry nodded.

* * *

The next hour was rather tiring for Harry and the baby and by the end of it, both were ready to sleep for a decade. Hermione must have noticed that because by five, she was ushering everyone out.

"Harry needs his sleep and you guys need to prepare for the Naming ceremony."

"But it's in 2 month!" Ron protested hotly.

"And it's always good to be prepared. Now shoo."

The small infant had fallen asleep but the time the cavalry had left, looking so adorable against Harry's arm that the teen resisted the urge to coo at her again.

"You did really well Harry," Hermione repeated softly.

"Thank you," Harry said, looking down. He smiled at his daughter, passing a hand though her short blond curls. The baby let out a small snore and Harry felt himself fall in love all over again.

* * *

The naming ceremony was a grand affair; everyone who was someone in the Wizarding world was invited. Harry had wanted a private ceremony just for their family but Hermione reminded him that this was the first birth from a male wizard in a long time and the people will want to meet his child and offer their congratulations. It is only polite to let them have the opportunity to do so. A private gathering can be arranged at a later date.

So on January 25th, Harry, along with Hermione and Ron, arrived at Hogwarts where they've all unanimously decided the naming ceremony will take place. Not only was it in honor of Dumbledore, but also in honor of all those who have fought so valiantly against Voldemort and without whose sacrifice Harry probably wouldn't even be here today.

Dumbledore's portrait was moved from its room for the express purpose of this ceremony. The old headmaster actually looked teary when Harry presented him with his daughter, whose name they have settled on will be Maya Stephanie Potter. It wasn't an extremely pureblood heiress name but Harry liked it. Stephanie was in honor of Steve and although Harry would have named his child Steve if said-child had been a boy, he knew his daughter would probably hate him later on in life if he had given her a boy's name. So Stephanie it was.

"It's a beautiful name," Dumbledore said approvingly, gazing down at the small infant. Little Maya was asleep again, oblivious to the bustle of activity around her. Before her birth, Harry had been worried she would be a light sleeper and would wake up at the smallest of sounds. But that fear had long since been quashed because little Maya could sleep through anything, even a thunderstorm.

"Thank you," Harry replied with genuine happiness because despite everything the headmaster had put him through; despite all the lies and manipulation, he still cared for the man. He was a mentor for Harry and will probably remain one for a long time. It didn't matter if Harry was still angry at Dumbledore from time to time, but experience made that he actually started to understand his reasoning and could see himself make the same decisions under the same circumstances. Harry didn't know if that made things better or worse.

But that didn't matter today; because today was all about his daughter.

About 2 hours before the beginning of the ceremony, the Weasleys arrived all together; Molly and Arthur and all their children. George Weasley, Harry noted, looked a little better than the last time he had seen him; a hallowed out mess at his own twin's funeral. At least now, the boy was actually smiling again. It must be a huge relief to everyone around him that he's learning to move on.

"Oh how's little Maya doing today?" Mrs. Weasley cooed as she approached them, bypassing saying hello to Harry altogether. If Harry wasn't so enamoured with his daughter as well, he would have been offended by her oversight.

"She's doing fine," he told her, "She's eating well and keeping a rather steady sleeping schedule."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Weasley replied, as she tickled the little girl on her tummy, making her giggle. She had woken up around the time the first Weasley had arrived and had been looking at the proceedings with interest, her rather intense blue gaze following everyone and everything. "Now that she's two month old, are you going back to work?"

Harry grimaced at the question.

"I won't be going back to being an auror. I'll still be working from home though," he said, "Maya's my priority now."

"That's fantastic," Mrs. Weasley beamed at him, "The ceremony is beautiful by the way. I know you told us to not bring anything but ourselves but I just had to bring her a little gift."

"Oh Mrs. Weasley," Harry automatically protested, "You didn't have to."

Molly gave him a look that made him shut up.

"Of course I did," she replied, "You're family Harry and family gave family presents on these occasions."

"Just do what she asks Harry, even if you don't agree with her," Ron suggested from his side, "It makes things a lot easier."

Everyone laughed as Mrs. Weasley chided her son good naturedly.

The first whiff of reporters wafted in around an hour later. Harry was kind of annoyed that there would be reporters here but once again, he was reminded that it was a necessary evil. Little Maya didn't seem to mind though. She pretty much fell in love with the flash of the camera and preened under the attention the reporters bestowed upon her. Harry really hoped she won't grow up an attention-seeking little princess like Malfoy. He will have to make sure to keep her away from the limelight as much as possible.

But right now, Harry decided, she can have her fun. After all, today was all about her. It didn't matter that reporters made Harry's skin itch; he would try his best to ignore them so to give his daughter a well-deserved ceremony. Harry could learn to play nice when something so important was at hand.

Harry was just happy to have her in his arms.

* * *

 ** _Part 2-4_**

 ** _New York, 2013_**

 _Steve_

The Avengers Initiative.

Hawkeye, Black Widow, Hulk, Ironman, and him, Captain America. Together, they sounded more like the premise of a comic book then a real military group. Truth be told, Steve really didn't know what to think of Nick Fury and his little band of superheroes. Fight against extraterritorial forces? Really? Even for a scientifically engineered super soldier, that is a little bit too much.

Sighing, Steve passed a tired hand through his messy blond hair. The 21th century was so confusing in his opinion; people today with their cellphones and televisions and Internet – always connected, always "online". Sometimes, it made him miss the relative quiet of New York 1943.

"Steve?"

Steve straightened, attention turning towards the new arrival. The psychiatrist SHIELD had assigned to him was young; younger then he had expected, but Steve wasn't one to discriminate based on age. Appearances can be misleading after all.

"Dr. Rayon?"

"Yes," the woman smiled, "My office is this way."

Steve followed the doctor in to a decent sized room and closed the door behind him. Rayon's office was decorated with warm wood paneling, an oak writing desk and a couple of leather sofas. There was a painting hanging near the book case along with Rayon's numerous credentials.

Rayon gestured for him to sit and he did, putting his bag next to the chair.

"It's nice to meet you Steve," Dr. Rayon began as she took a seat herself. She had a pad of paper resting on her lap as well as a pen in her right hand, but so far, she hadn't made any move to write anything, not even the date. Was she planning to simply treat this as a normal conversation rather than a session? Steve hoped so; he really hated the thought of someone analyzing every word that came out of his mouth.

"It's nice to meet you too," Steve replied, knee-jerk.

Rayon smiled.

"How are you adjusting so far?" she asked next.

"I'm still a little confused," Steve answered and wasn't that the understatement of the century.

"Being overwhelmed is entirely normal," Dr. Rayon said, "What you are currently experiencing is something no one has ever experienced before. What the effects will be on your psyche, we can only guess."

"I don't think I'm crazy or anything," Steve protested a little defensively.

Rayon laughed.

"That is not what I meant," she told him and Steve blushed.

"Oh."

"But really Steve," she crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward, eyes intent on Steve, "Please don't try to play the hero with me. I'm here to listen. Whatever you tell me will stay in this room."

Steve bit his lips but didn't reply. He had no idea where to start.

Rayon sighed.

"So," Rayon beamed at him, "I heard a nice little rumor about you and Agent Carter."

Steve choked.

"Where on Earth did you hear that?"

Rayon laughed at his expression.

"It's not exactly top secret news," she said, "Everyone who knew you back then said you two got alone famously…which was weird because Agent Carter had never been close with anyone she worked with."

"Peggy was a nice person," Steve replied simply, ashamed to have not thought about her in some time. Peggy was more then a nice person; she was passionate about her job and compassionate about the people around her. If Steve wasn't still so hung up about Harry, he would have given her a chance. But even when Harry was no longer in the picture, doing anything with her repulsed him.

"Have you two…" Rayon trailed off.

"No," Steve said quickly, "I wasn't interested."

"Really?" Now she sounded intrigued, almost like a teenage girl about to be told a tremendous secret. Was this woman really a psychologist?

"I was interested in someone else," Steve admitted grudgingly, the memory of Harry's smile still sent a quiver of pain through his heart.

"And what happened?"

Steve sighed.

"They disappeared," he admitted, remembering the misery he had felt when Harry couldn't be found. His mother hadn't understood and Steve couldn't tell her. The only person who could understand him was long gone, risking his life for a country who might not even care about his fate.

Steve shook his head to get rid of those thoughts.

"What's worse," he continued, wanting desperately to tell someone his story, "is that I was and still am certain that the disappearance hadn't been voluntary. This…uncertainty is making me crazy."

"You need closure," Rayon said softly, eyes kind, "You know, you could ask Mr. Stark for help."

"Stark?"

"Stark," Rayon repeated, "If there's any record of this person out there, Stark could find it. You should give it a try. Maybe it'll offer you the closure you need."

Steve bit his lips again. He hadn't thought about that.

"I'll give it a try," he finally replied. "Thank you." He meant it.

"My pleasure," Dr. Rayon smiled. "My pleasure."

* * *

Once back at the tower, Steve went on the search for the billionaire in question. He found him, surprisingly, in the kitchen along with Clint, arguing with a…toaster?

"Come on love," Stark was saying, caressing the toaster with one hand, "Please, just one bagel. You'll learn to like it."

The toaster beeped, unamused.

"What is going on?" Steve asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Stark managed to build a fully functioning AI in to the toaster," Hawkeye said bitterly, "And princess there won't take anything other then whole-wheat bread."

"She's health-conscious," Stark protested, "You should be proud."

"I want my raisin bagel," Clint whined, throwing a truly disgusted look at the inventor, "Tell her to grill my bagel."

Steve snorted, unable to contain himself faced with the utter ridiculousness of the situation.

"She'll be nicer to you if you didn't always yell at her," Stark chided him. Clint glared, unplugged the toaster before Stark could say another word and rushed out of the room.

"Hey!" Stark protested, about to run after Clint, but Steve stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Stark? Can you help me out with something?"

Stark blinked, surprised.

"Err…sure Cap, what can I do for you?"

Steve took a deep breath.

"I need you to research the current whereabouts of a certain someone for me."

"Oh," Stark grinned, "Sure thing. Jarvis?"

"Yes sir," came the reply. Steve was proud to say he hadn't even reacted to that.

"I need you to do a persons search. What is their name Cap?"

"Harry Potter," Steve replied, "A little bit taller then my old self, green eyes, messy black hair, and an athletic build. He also had a British accent."

"Searching sir," Jarvis replied. It took 10 seconds for him to get a result. "I have found the person you are looking for."

Steve felt his heart skip a beat.

"Is he…is he still alive?" he asked, hoping against hope.

"Of course sir," Jarvis replied, sounding confused, "Harry Potter is very much alive. He's currently 25 years old living in London."

Steve felt disappointment take over him.

"Oh," he sighed, "That's not him then."

"Someone you knew back in the days?" Tony asked, "You know, you could still take a look at this Harry Potter, maybe he'll end up being a descendant."

"That is a very sensible recommendation," Steve admitted, "Alright Jarvis, can you show me the picture?"

"Of course sir; I'm sending it to Master Stark's phone right now."

Stark put his phone on the table and pressed a button. Steve watched in surprise as the entire glass surface turned in to a massive touch screen. Another press and the image of a handsome young man in his mid twenties appeared on screen.

Steve felt his breath leave his body.

No…It couldn't be…Was this a massive coincidence? How could two people look exactly the same? The Harry Potter on screen was identical to his Harry; even down to the little scar over the left eye.

How was the possible?

No, Steve decided, it can't be the same person. Time travel didn't exist after all.

 _But Gods and Super soldiers do…_

Steve shook his head.

"Jarvis," he said, voice trembling, "Can you tell me a little about him?"

"Lord Harold James Potter is a member of the British Nobility," Jarvis said, "He's currently living in London and works as an Ambassador. He's also in possession of one of the biggest independent fortunes in the UK.

Lord Potter's parents, Lily and James Potter, are both dead…

 _"My parents died when I was young. Lily and James Potter…I never knew them."_

His godfather, Sirius Black, was wrongfully accused and sent to prison…

 _"Sirius was always so full of life; even 13 years in prison hadn't changed him. He was wrongfully accused Steve…please stop looking at me like that."_

He has two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They are married now.

 _"I can't believe Hermione married Ron. Those two are always at each others' throat but somehow, they made their marriage work. It just goes to show that love works in mysterious ways."_

And-"

"Jarvis," Steve snapped, having heard enough. His heart was beating too fast to be remotely healthy. He thought he was about to faint. "Please stop."

The AI fell silent.

"Steve?" Stark said hesitantly, "You're trembling."

Steve didn't reply.

This couldn't be real…this just couldn't be…

But everything was saying it is…

Harry…did he disappear because he traveled in time? God, wasn't that the most ridiculous theory ever? But still, if extra-terrestrial beings are real, why couldn't time travel be too?

"Stark," Steve took a calming breath, suddenly much more in control, "Do you think you can get me a meeting with Lord Potter?"

"According to this, he'll be attending a charity ball in a few days time. I can get you an invite."

"Yes, that would be good," Steve smiled, "Thank you."

* * *

 **Part 2-5**

 ** _London, 2013_**

 _Harry_

"This looks wonderful, Harry," said Hermione. She handed him a venetian inspired mask and watched as he put it on. It fit perfectly, giving him an almost princely appearance.

"Thank you," Harry gave her a small smile. "I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule for this charity ball."

"You know saving orphans is my favorite cause; Of course I was going to help you."

"Hermione probably just want a reason to dress up," said Ron, coming in to the room. Hermione turned on her husband with a glare and hit him squarely on the head with her open palm.

"Oww," Row yelped, "Hermione; that hurt."

"Stop being so insensitive," she hissed, before stalking away.

"She's a little on edge," Harry told him, eyes fixed on the mirror. He tried to straighten his tie but only managed to dislodge it even further. Sighing, he pulled it off completely before starting all over again.

"You look on edge as well," Ron remarked, "Something wrong?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, "I've been feeling really restless for some reason. This ball has been taking a lot out of me, especially with Maya still being an infant; I'm glad that my schedule will finally clear up after this."

He gave a final pat down of his suit before declaring himself fit and ready.

"Alright," he smiled at Ron, "Let's go get Hermione and make our appearance."

* * *

The Save our Children Foundation's annual Masked Ball was always well-attended by celebrities and politicians alike. Some might say that this was their way of redeeming themselves for all the terrible things they had done over the year, but Harry liked to give them more credit then that. Some of the people who had come today genuinely cared about the cause; Harry being chief among them. He had been surprised when the Foundation Head had asked him to organize the event. Sure Harry was a pretty well-known figure both in the magic and muggle world, but he was far from being in the same league as the Ball's usual sponsors.

After making his introduction speech, Harry started to make his rounds. He stopped to say hi to a couple of people, even agreeing to a dance or two. He had never learned to dance beyond the basics so had to rely on his partners to guide. It was fine when it was with another man, but it was more awkward when it was with a woman who obviously expected him to lead. It was frankly exhausting. Thus 2 hours in to the party, he was already dead on his feet and was just wondering about how much longer he will have to stay when he bumped in to someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he quickly said, turning around just in time to catch his unfortunate victim. Harry's heart skipped a beat when his eyes met another pair of eyes of a fairytale blue he had previously only seen on one person.

"No," said the man, smiling apologetically, "It's my fault."

The body type, the voice, the mannerism were all wrong but for some reason, this man reminded him of Steve in a way that no one else has.

Enchanted beyond explanation, Harry took a step closer to his companion and offered him a hand.

"Harry Potter," he said, "And you are?"

"Steven," was the reply. "You can call me Steve."

"So you're a Steve too," Harry smiled sadly, "I knew a Steve once."

"Yeah?" Steve asked in interest. Harry wondered if he was genuinely interested in his story or just abnormally good at faking it.

"Yeah," Harry replied, not knowing why he was even telling this stranger private things about himself. "He was my lover. I thought we had forever together but we got separated."

"What happened?"

"Something tore me away from him," Harry sighed, passing a tired hand through his hair, "What's worse is that he…died thinking I had left him. I would have never left him voluntarily; he was my world."

"I'm sure he understands better then you think," Steve told him, his voice less steady then before. Harry looked at him with his eyebrows raised.

"You seem awfully convinced."

"I am," Steve said, smiling at him. "Would you believe me if I tell you I know exactly how your Steve felt?"

Harry let out a surprised laugh.

"What? Like you're his reincarnation or something?"

"Or something," Steve agreed. He bit his lip, sighed before continuing, "But it's more like-"

But before he could finish his sentence, their little group of two was joined by a third man. Harry recognized him as one of the old Military generals he had been introduced to earlier in the evening.

"Colonel James," he said surprised.

"Lord Potter," he greeted him with a nod before turning to Steve, "Is it true you are The Captain America?"

Captain America? Harry bit his lips as he wondered why that name sounded so familiar.

"Yes I am," Steve replied, "The real one."

Colonel James burst out in to delighted laughter.

"Oh dear God, so they weren't messing with me after all. But really, what can you expect? When they told me that Captain America was found after 70 years frozen in ice, I thought they had finally lost it."

Harry choked.

"Excuse me!" he said, voice at least an octave higher..

"Oh, you don't know?" Colonel James sounded taken aback, "Captain America was the US military first successful attempt at creating a super soldier. It was back during WWII. The project ended when the Captain's plane dived nose first in to the Atlantic and was never found."

"They told me I was frozen in ice, kept in a state of suspended animation for over 70 years," Steve laughed, "I black out in 1943 and I wake up in 2013; 70 years gone in a blink; it's like time travel."

"Time Travel," Harry repeated dazedly.

"But really," Colonel James said with a sigh, "Who could have thought that science could really make this possible; turn a scrawny as kid with asthma in to the epitome of human perfection."

"You were a scrawny kid with asthma?" Harry squeaked. Colonel James was looking at him weirdly now, but Harry didn't care. He could hardly believe what he was hearing; Captain America had been a scrawny kid back in 1943 who had joined the Army and whose career had ended when he flew a plane in to the ocean.

 _"Steven Rogers joined the US Army during WWII and was in a plane that went down before the war ended. His body has never been recovered but he is most likely dead."  
_

That's what the PM had said right? Everything fit together perfectly like the different pieces of a complicated puzzle. It would also explain why this Steve reminded Harry of his Steve. And yet…

After hearing the news, a part of Harry had still hoped, yes, that Steve wasn't really dead, but never in his wildest dreams had he envisioned this.

Was this Captain America really his Steve?

It was too fantastical to believe, but Harry lived in a world of magic and dragons. Hell, he even travelled back in time. Why couldn't this be possible?

There was only one way to find out.

Without giving Steve a chance to protest, Harry surged forward and kissed him. If there was any doubt left regarding Steve's identity, it was lost the moment their lips met.

As soon as their lips met, everything around them seemed to dissolve. The soul mate bond that had been dormant for the past year resurged with a vengeance, making Steve's eyes glow.

Oh Merlin…

"I finally found you," Steve murmured against Harry's lips, ignoring the growing crowd of people coming to see what was going on, "I finally found you and I'm never letting you go."

"Yes," Harry closed his eyes, his body feeling so light it was almost floating, "Yes."

* * *

 **Interlude – Magic Reveal**

 **London, 2013**

 _Harry_

"You created quite a ruckus out there," Hermione said as she entered Steve's hotel suite. The couple in question had quickly left after their reunion, wanting to be alone after several month of separation. Hermione had understood that and had even stayed behind to mitigate the damage. She was such a wonderful friend, Harry thought fondly. Up until now, she hadn't even blink at the fact that Harry was practically in Steve's lap. Harry was eternally grateful for her open-mindedness because at the moment he really didn't want to stop touching Steve.

"I'm sorry for the trouble," said Steve, ever the epitome of politeness.

Hermione sighed and gave him a smile.

"It's fine; I'm just glad everything turned out okay. But really Harry, this must be your luckiest day yet."

"It is," Harry replied dreamily and buried his face in to Steve's massive chest. Steve laughed a little and held him closer.

Silence.

"There will be questions regarding all this, you are aware right?" Hermione finally said, narrowing her eyes at them, "People will want to know how you two got together and you can't very well tell them the truth. You need to find some cover up story to make it all believable. Steve, your story is pretty much public news so that won't be a problem, but Harry, no one can know that you met Steve back in 1943."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh Merlin," he said, and felt Steve's confused gaze on him. He'll definitely have to explain to the other man about magic soon. "Hermione; I totally forgot about the woman who had sent me back in time in the first place."

Hermione laughed.

"Don't worry, we already have people searching for her."

"Is she a God like Loki?" Steve asked, gaze darting from Hermione to Harry.

"Not exactly," Hermione said awkwardly and gave Harry a significant look.

Harry sighed. He had wanted to delay this conversation until they can get reacquainted with each other's bodies, but as things were, that doesn't seem to be possible anymore.

"No Steve," he said, "She's from Earth like me and you. She's a witch."

"That's not a nice thing to say about a dame," said Steve, knee-jerk and Harry laughed, albeit a little hysterically.

"No Steve," he said, "I mean, she's really a witch, as in broomsticks and potions and all that. I bet she even has a black cat as a familiar."

"Wait…what?"

Steve's eyes were so wide they were risking to pop out of his head at any moment.

"There's a secret community of people who were gifted with the power to manipulate the natural energy around us," Hermione explained, her tone calm and professional, "These peoples are wizards and witches. They are hidden because they do not want non-magical, muggles, to exploit them for their power. Harry and I are part of that group."

Steve turned to Harry, mouth agape.

"You can do magic?"

In response, Harry turned the coffee table in to a dog. It barked a few times before the table was returned to its original shape.

Steve was staring at the table as if he had never seen it before.

"I think I need some time to think about this," he finally said, gently pushing Harry onto the sofa and getting up.

"Steve!" Harry said, horrified.

Steve laughed a little.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm not leaving you. I just found you so I'm not letting you go. I'm just a little overwhelmed at the moment so some time alone will do me some good."

"Alright," Harry said a little heart-brokenly as he watched Steve disappear in to his bedroom, the door closing behind him.

"And you haven't even told him about the pregnancy yet."

Harry glared at Hermione.

"Yeah," the young woman winced, "I know; not the time."

* * *

 ** _Part 2-6_**

 ** _London, 2013_**

 _Steve_

Magic…Who could have thought? Someone capable of turning an inanimate object in to an animate object with just a thought. It was mind-blowing in all the sense of the phrase, even more so then discovering that he had slept for 70 years.

 _An entirely hidden society of wizards and witches._

Steve sighed, passing a tired hand through his hair.

Loki was one thing; his magic was easily accepted by the soldier because Loki was a God. Harry on the other hand was supposed to be human…is human. But in the long run, Steve knew it didn't change any of his feelings towards the younger man. No, he still loved Harry with all his heart. And since magic was a part of Harry as well, Steve was going to take it all in stride.

He sat in silence for about 20 minutes, ruminating about all that has happened to him in the short period of a few days; waking up in the future, being introduced to the Avengers, having his first encounter with Loki, finding Harry and finding about the Wizarding world. Truth be told, Steve was surprised he was still so stable after all this when someone else could very will be having an emotional breakdown.

"Maybe it's still coming," Steve muttered to himself, "Maybe I'm still in denial that this is all real."

There was also the possibility he was in a coma back in 1943 and all this was just a figment of his overactive imagination. That would explain the super-advanced technology, the existence of Earth Magic and Alien Gods.

Steve snorted to himself.

If only Bucky could see this…

Steve let out a deep breath, slapped his palms against his thighs and stood up. He made Harry wait long enough. It was time to go back out there.

Decision made, Steve started his slow trek back to the living room.

* * *

Harry was still sitting where Steve had left him 20 minutes ago, his face in his hands, looking absolutely devastated. His friend was long gone.

"Hey," Steve said, heart wrenching at the sight of his lover in so much pain. He berated himself for being the cause, "Harry. Oh God, I'm so sorry."

He quickly took a seat next to the young man in question and pulled him in to his arms. Harry went with absolutely no resistance, burying his face in Steve's chest with a small sniff.

"Are you angry?" Harry asked softly, his voice barely audible.

"Of course not," Steve forced Harry's face up with two fingers beneath his chin. Once their eyes met, Steve was once again utterly charmed by the greenness of Harry's luminous orbs. Was magic making his eyes glow like that? "I was just a little taken aback that's all."

"Good," Harry took a deep breath, "because I haven't told you everything yet."

Steve's eyebrows arched in surprise. There was more to tell then magic? Truthfully, he couldn't think of anything else Harry might want to tell him.

"Every witch and wizard has a soulmate," Harry began, "And you, Steve Rogers, are mine. When I kissed you, I knew you were the same Steve as before. Even if you look entirely different now, the bond between us doesn't lie."

Steve choked.

"Soulmates?" he echoed incredulously.

Harry laughed a little at his reaction.

"That was my first reaction as well," he said, "I grew up without magic you see, so when I was introduced in to the Wizarding world at 11, there were a lot of things I didn't know. The existence of soulmates was one of them. But truth be told, it's less romance and more about compatibility; compatibility in terms of personality and aura."

"If I hadn't seen you do magic half an hour ago, I would definitely be calling this bullshit."

Harry laughed again.

"I'm sorry," he snorted, "It's weird when you swear."

"Yeah well," Steve blushed, looking away, "I'm not in the habit of swearing. I tend to be the one to tell others to watch their language."

"Oh Merlin," Harry's eyes widened, "Do you actually say Watch your language? That would be hilarious."

"Funny," Steve said dryly but he was internally happy to see Harry so relaxed once again.

"People should call you Captain Language," Harry grinned and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Yes, because that would be very professional."

Harry laughed so hard this time that he nearly doubled over. The whole situation wasn't all that funny but laughter was sometimes the only way to diffuse the tension.

"Anyway," Steve said, "So you were saying about soulmates."

His lover sobered up at his words.

"When soulmates meet, they would get attached really quickly. Some might call it love at first sight. Magic would then push the two person to consummate the bond as soon as possible."

"Does the fact your eyes glow also has something to do with soulmates?"

"Yes," Harry replied, "As my bonded, you'll be able to see a somewhat physical manifestation of my magic. In addition, since you don't have any powers yourself, you'll find that you'll be able to use my power for simple things regardless of the distance between us."

"I can use magic?" Steve gaped.

"Only for simple things," Harry warned, "But our bond needs to be more mature before that's possible."

"That is incredible," Steve grinned, before noticing Harry's distracted air. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?

Harry bit his lips, obviously indecisive, but before Steve could press him further, the sound of his phone ringing pierced through the air. For a second, Steve debated letting it go to voicemail, wanting to hear what Harry has so say but he ultimately decided against it. He was still technically on call after all, and he couldn't let his selfishness take over. So, it was with a sigh that he fished the slim black phone Stark had given him, out of his pocket and pressed the accept call button on the touch screen.

"Rogers," he said in to the receiver and listened.

"Steve?" said Stark. He sounded a little off, "Sorry man but we need you back here ASAP. Loki's back."

Steve paled. Loki was back? So soon? In all honesty, Steve had expected him to be back, knowing his disappearing act had only been temporary. He had dealt with enough egomaniacs to understand just how much Loki craved attention. He would never go away quietly when his plan was far from completed.

"I understand," he sighed, wondering just what kind of chaos Loki had brought with him this time.

"The pilot has already been informed and is already on standby. Please leave immediately."

"Yes, of course."

He hung up.

"Steve?" Harry asked in concern.

"You know Loki right? You must know since you recognized the name earlier."

"Yes, I did see the news coverage."

"Well," Steve sighed, "Loki's back and I'm part of the taskforce put together to stop him."

"The Avengers," Harry's eyes widened as he started putting things together.

"Yes, as Captain America, I've been tasked to lead the Avengers. I need to go back to New York."

"Will I see you soon?" Harry asked anxiously.

Steve smiled at him.

"Of course," he said, "Once things with Loki has calmed down enough, I'll come to you. I promise."

"Okay," Harry sighed. He was obviously unhappy about this but was mature enough to not plead Steve to stay. A part of Steve however was actually hoping that he would.

Shaking his head to dispel those thoughts, Steve leaned forward and pecked Harry on the lips. He then got back up to go pack.

Looks like his mini vacation was now officially over.

* * *

 **Part 3-1**

 **Time Line**

Beginning January 2013: Harry's trip in time.

Beginning January 2013: Harry falls pregnant.

Beginning June 2013: Harry gives birth (male pregnancies are shorter).

End October 2013: Maya is 5 month old and Harry and Steve are reunited.

* * *

 ** _Harry_**

London, 2013

"Baba."

Harry froze, turning to Maya with eyes so wide they were nearly popping out of his face.

"What did you say?"

Maya giggled.

"Bababababa," she repeated, shaking her fist.

"Aww," Mrs. Weasley cooed, coming over, "She's trying to communicate with you."

"But she's only 5 month old," Harry said, giving Maya her favorite teddy bear and watched fondly as she started to hug it against her chest. It was an adorable sight, especially considering the toy was bigger then her.

"Wizarding children develop faster then muggles," Mrs. Weasley explained patiently, "And there's the fact she's a product of a male pregnancy."

"Does that change anything?" Harry asked worried, passing a hand through Maya's soft curls. The infant ignored him, preferring to talk excitedly to her bear.

"It is a known fact that children from male pregnancies generally grow up different; a good different since they tend to be more powerful magic wise or intelligent. Maya will be fine."

"Oh," Harry let out a relieved sigh, sitting down next to his daughter, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little on edge these days."

"I understand dear," Mrs. Weasley said kindly. She turned around to the stove once more and waved her hand to stir whatever she had cooking. It smelled fantastic, but that wasn't surprising since everything Mrs. Weasley made smelled fantastic.

"It's just this mess the Americans are currently trying to deal with," Harry said after a while, "It's making me nervous. Sure they have their own defense team to deal with the invaders, but what if it's not enough. What if they manage to spread to other countries. I don't understand why a global task force isn't put in place to deal with this threat. This planet belongs to us after all, not just the Americans. They shouldn't have to deal with this all by themselves."

It was only when he had stopped talking that he realized that both Maya and Mrs. Weasley were staring at him.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, "It must seem weird that I'm so passionate about this."

"Baba," said Maya, giggling before she returned to her bear.

"I understand dear," Mrs. Weasley repeated, "You have a big heart. It's nothing to be sorry about."

Arthur Weasley took that time to enter the room, looking tired and overworked. He greeted his wife with an absent kiss on the cheeks and was about to do the same to Harry when the young man stopped him.

"Oh Merlin," Arthur stuttered, "So sorry. I didn't notice."

"It's fine Arthur," Harry smiled, "We'll all a little overworked."

Arthur sighed, propping himself down in one chair.

"Kingsley wants to speak with you Harry," he said, "He tried to contact you at home but you weren't there."

"I'm rarely at my flat these days," Harry said, "Is it urgent?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself? He should be by in a minute or so."

"Did he tell you what this was about?"

Arthur shook his head.

"He looked frazzled, if you can believe it."

"Oh," Harry blinked and turned to Maya, "Hey sweetie, are you hungry?"

Maya shook her head and Harry stared.

"Do you think she understand me?" he asked Mrs. Weasley incredulously.

"It's entirely possible," Mrs. Weasley replied, "As I've said, children from male pregnancies are special; sometimes, we won't know how special until later on in life, but it is entirely possible that little Maya would start showing early signs of accelerated development."

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation and Arthur stood up to open it.

"That must be him."

A few seconds later, he returned with Kingsley in tow.

"Lord Potter, Mrs. Weasley," he greeted, "And miss Maya."

Maya babbled happily at him, drawing a small smile from Kingsley.

"Please do sit down," Mrs. Weasley told him, "Do you boys need privacy?"

"That would be nice," Kingsley replied so Mrs. Weasley took Maya and with Mr. Weasley behind her, they left the room. Once they were gone, Kingsley began to speak.

"I'm sure you've heard about the mess across the pond."

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"It seemed that things are more dire then expected. One of the members of their task force got put under some kind of mind control spell. None of their mind healers seem to be able to break it. As a last resort, they asked you to try and see if you can't overpower it."

"But doing that by force could damage the victim's mind irreparably," Harry said calmly, "Shouldn't they-"

"Unfortunately right now, it is agreed that we don't have any choice. This is a direct request from President Stane. Currently, they have Agent Barton in confinement but they are not sure how long they can keep this up."

"Alright," Harry said, "If it is what needs to be done, I'll do it."

"Thank you," Kingsley smiled, "I know it's not ideal now that you have Maya, but-"

"No, I understand," Harry assured him, already thinking of asking Mrs. Weasley to look after Maya for a few days, "When do I leave?"

* * *

 ** _Part 3-2_**

 ** _New York, 2013_**

 _Steve_

"How's Clint doing?" Steve asked, coming to sit next to Natasha at the kitchen table. The assassin barely looked up from her cup of coffee before replying.

"He was put under heavy sedation."

She was obviously unhappy about that but Steve could see the logic and wisdom in that choice. Clint at the moment was a threat both to himself and to the rest of the team; the best thing he could do was to stay unconscious until someone could come and resolve this mess.

"I spoke to Fury," Steve said gently, "He contacted a specialist oversees who's going to come help Clint."

Natasha scoffed.

"A specialist," she said derisively, "I doubt some kind of shrink would be able to talk Clint out of this. As much as I despise Loki, I can also admit the power of that staff he's wielding."

"Don't be too pessimistic," Steve said, "In times of war, hope is sometimes is only thing that can give us a competitive advantage over the enemy."

"I could concede that," Natasha agreed, taking a sip of her drink, "When is the specialist coming?"

"They should be here soon."

At that moment, the door opened and Stark came in, looking like a child who had just been given a big present.

"You will never guess who is here," he said to Steve.

"Who?" Steve was confused.

"Lord Potter of course," Stark said.

"What?" he nearly shrieked, getting up from his chair so fast it rocked on its two hind legs before stabilizing once more, "What is he doing here? This is a battle zone. Oh God."

How could Harry be here? He was supposed to be safe back in London, not in New York where Loki can harm him.

"He's here on Fury's behalf," continued Stark, giving Steve a sympathetic look, "He's the specialist Fury was talking about."

Oh. Of course.

"Steve?"

Natasha.

She looked over at him, her worry momentarily replaced by curiosity.

"Who is this Lord Potter?"

"From what I can gather," Stark said, "He's the grand son of a friend of Steve's back in the 1940s. Cap here is just feeling a little overprotective."

"Yeah, grandson," Steve agreed readily, relieved not to have to give any other explanations. "Come on, let's go meet our guest and hopefully get Clint back."

Harry looked sheepish when he caught Steve's eye.

"Hello again," he said and Steve couldn't resist pulling him in to a tight hug, not caring about whoever was around them. Now that he was aware of the soul mate bond, he could feel something in the back of his head humming contently with Harry in his arms once more.

"Captain Rogers." someone coughed.

Blushing a little, Steve pulled back and faced Fury.

"Sorry sir," he said totally unapologetically.

"That's quite alright," said Fury, looking extremely curious. To the man's credit, he didn't comment, instead turning to Harry once more.

"Agent Barton is currently under heavy sedation; do we need to pull him out of it before you do anything?"

"No need," Harry replied, "I'll have to see what I'm dealing with."

"Of course."

As they departed, Steve and Natasha made moves to follow but were stopped.

"Unfortunately, you won't be able to come. What Lord Potter is about to do is classified."

"With all due respect sir," said Natasha, "Clint is my partner."

"And I respect that," Fury said, "But this is not the time to get all sentimental. Agent Coulson will keep you up to date regarding any changes."

And with that, they were gone.

"Can you believe it?" Natasha sighed, arms crossed across her chest. Steve can't help but think she looked particularly vulnerable like that. He would never say it to Natasha's face of course, lest she breaks his nose in retaliation.

"You guys are so pathetic," Stark said, appearing out of nowhere, making Steve wonder if there were secret passageways in this place he wasn't aware off. Since this was Stark and he had designed the entire ship from start to finish, Steve was almost certain there were secret passageways spread all over the place.

"What are you on about Stark?" snapped Natasha, her tone telling him she was in no mood to play.

"Fury tells you no and you just take it lying down."

"What can we do?"

Stark grinned.

"We find another way to watch of course."

"I cannot believe I am condoning this," Steve was still mumbling even as Stark finished hacking in to the feed from the security camera in Clint's room.

"Oh come on," Stark rolled his eyes, "This is so far from the worst thing I have done up to date."

"True," Natasha admitted, taking a seat, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Now shush, I want to listen."

Steve sighed, leaning back to enjoy the show.

In Clint's room, Harry knelt beside Clint's bed, eyes closed. Fury stood guard near the door, eyes never leaving Harry and Clint.

"What on Earth is he doing?" Natasha asked when 10 minutes later Harry hadn't even moved. "Is he praying?"

He's trying to overpower the curse, Steve realized, but couldn't really say to that to the others without revealing Harry's powers.

Stark was strangely silent, eyes no longer on the screen but on his tablet. Steve could see graphs of some kind moving on the display.

Finally, after another 10 minutes, Harry got up with difficulty and smiled.

"He's going to be fine," he said, his voice coming loud and clear over the speakers.

"Thank you Lord Potter," he said, offering Harry a seat, "Let's rest a little before you leave."

Silence.

"So," Fury said after a few minutes, "How's everything back in the UK? I usually keep up with everything as best as I can, but with the recent developments."

"Things are going ok," Harry admitted, "Pretty quiet actually, not unlike here."

"Thank you for coming by the way," Fury said, "I know it's not easy right now for you to leave your home. By the way, how is that daughter of yours doing?"

Steve froze.

Daughter? Did Fury just say daughter?

"Maya is fine," Harry replied, smiling fondly, "She's going to be 5 month old soon."

Suddenly feeling sick to the stomach, Steve stood up abruptly.

"Steve?" Natasha asked in confusion but Steve just shook his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "Need some fresh air." And with that, he was out of the room.

Daughter, he thought almost dazedly, why didn't Harry tell him anything about her? Did he already have a family and was just playing with him? How could someone who had claimed to be his soul mate betray him in this manner?

 _Shit._

 **Part 3-3**

 **New York, 2013**

 **Steve**

The thing was, Steve has never been a level-headed person when it came to his personal matters. Like a child who has yet to reach their emotional maturity, he tended to either lash out or shut down when things develop in ways he had not anticipated. It wasn't that Steve didn't want to cope like a rational human being. He couldn't because he had never had a lot of time to learn how to be a rational human being outside of battle. He may be a super soldier on the battlefield, but outside of it, it was a different story. Some days, Steve could barely fit in with the rest of humanity.

Take the current situation at hand for example. Deep down, Steve knew there was more to the story then what he had overheard; some detail unknown to him that would change his entire perspective on the situation. After all, Harry, from what Steve knew of him, wasn't the sort to hide something so big from him with the sheer purpose of stringing him along. He was a Lord for God's sake. What would be his motive to play Steve in this way? None; he had no motive. It's not as if a good relationship with Steve would offer him power and prestige; he already had plenty of that on his own.

With all that considered, Steve knew rationally he should take a deep breath, go back in there and talk to Harry; force him, if the situation called for it, to tell the whole truth. It would be easy and Harry would probably dish out some story about a dead relative and the child being entrusted in his care. They would laugh about it and Steve would berate himself for ever doubting Harry's integrity and everything would go back to how it was.

And yet…

He couldn't. He was still under shock. This situation was something he could have never anticipated in a million years. His emotional regulator simply shut down for lack of a better word.

So he ran…

Ran away from having to confront the problem directly; from having to admit how much things have changed; how helpless he was feeling despite his physical strength and super-human body. Ever since he had woken up 70 years in the future, Steve found himself doing a lot of running. He was good at that and the soldier in him refused to let himself think how much it made him a coward.

The ringing of his cellphone was so unexpected that he nearly tripped on thin air.

Cursing with words that would have made his mother wash his mouth with soap, Steve took out the slim smartphone Stark had forced upon him and pressed the talk button. He didn't even bother looking at the caller id.

"Rogers" Steve said, trying to get his voice to work properly.

"Steve!" came Stark's voice. He sounded panicked and for a moment, Steve forgot all about Harry as his body went into battle mode.

"What's wrong? Are we under attack?" he asked urgently.

There was a moment of silence before Stark coughed. Panic had given place to something else; embarrassment? Well, that didn't make sense. Stark didn't get embarrassed; he was too self-assured, exactly like his father was.

"No, it's not that. The meeting's over and well…I had to confess to my little hacking session and Fury was not impressed."

Steve couldn't help but snort at that. Fury, despite his grudging respect for the billionaire inventor, found Stark a big pain in his ass. Disrespectful and insubordinate on his best days, Stark seemed to have been put on this earth with the sole purpose of infuriating Nick Fury to the point of cracking. "Unimpressed" was an understatement by anyone's standard. Fury must have spent a good 10 minutes yelling at Stark in hope of instilling in him a respect for people's privacy. Tough luck. That, Steve knew, would never happen.

"I can't really help with that," he said, just in case Stark had some genius idea of using him as a human shield against the wrath that was Nick Fury. "Just nod your head to what he's saying and it will all be over soon."

"Steve!" Stark gasped, he sounded impressed and proud, as if Steve was a child who had taken his first steps all on his own, "That is not what a good little soldier is supposed to say."

"Well," Steve sighed rather bitterly, "I'm not exactly feeling like a good little soldier right now."

Silence followed his confession and after a while, Steve had to take the phone away from his ear to make sure the call hadn't been disconnected. This was, he mused, the longest Stark has gone without talking since he had first met the man.

"Stark?"

"Look," Stark said awkwardly. There was a sound of rustling of fabric as Stark shifted. Steve was momentarily impressed by how high tech the phone was that it had managed to pick up something like that. But before he could say something about it or think further, Stark continued. "I don't know what had happened back there but what I do know is that Lord Potter is extremely upset by your abrupt departure. Please come back Steve…his glare is starting to drill a hole in the side of my head."

"Oh," Steve said, for lack of anything else to say.

"Steve?" Stark continued, "Please. Whatever is going on can be resolved by talking it out. Lord Potter seemed to be extremely eager to explain things to you and the least you can do is listen to him. If he's as important as I think he is to you, running away will just damage your relationship."

"I'm not-" Steve tried to protest but Stark had already hung up the phone.

"I can't believe Stark is more mature in this than me," Steve mumbled to himself. Could this be a sign that Stark actually had some hidden depth no one knew about?

Sighing, Steve turned around and started to jog back to where he had started.

 **Harry**

 **New York, 2013**

The moment he saw Stark's guilty expression, Harry knew something was up; something that was probably all Stark's fault. The man, from what Harry saw, was a troublemaker by nature. He was the sort who was never satisfied with the status quo and always had to do something about it. Usually, that something brought on consequences for other people around him. Harry knew a lot of troublemakers in his time so he knew all too well to bleed the confession out of them if needed. It was simple really; don't smile, don't get distracted and don't look away. If you followed these rules, it's almost guaranteed that they will confess in the end.

"Alright," Harry said, steeling himself to use his most deadly glare. Coupled with the"I am in charge here" tone he had perfected over the years, Stark didn't stand a chance. It was no surprise that Stark responded like so many others have. He straightened a little in his seat and looked even guiltier if that was possible, "Stark! What's going on?"

"Stark!" Fury barked, coming to stand next to Harry. His stormy expression actually made the billionaire playboy take a step back and raise his hands in surrender. Harry was impressed. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything you did not expect me to do," Stark protested weakly while the rest of the Avengers team tried, and failed, to keep in a snort of laughter. A glare from Harry, however, shut them right up.

"That was not reassuring in the least," Fury snapped, looking annoyed. Harry has to agree. Fury seemed to expect the worst when it came to Stark.

"What did you do?" Harry repeated, putting more energy behind his glare. He crossed his arms and pursed his lips, looking like a disgruntled parent whose child had been found drawing all over the walls with a permanent marker. Luckily, Maya was not yet of the age where she was extremely destructive. Give her a few years and she would be a little troublemaker just like James and Sirius. Harry didn't know if he was dreading it or looking forward to it.

But that's not the issue at hand.

Don't get distracted.

"Well," Stark shrugged, looking ill-at-ease. He tried to catch the eyes of the other members of his team who, by all accounts, were also there during whatever incident Stark had caused. Unfortunately, none of them seemed ready to jump in to save Stark's hide. Stark sighed rather pitifully before finally admitting, "I may have hacked into the system and overheard your little conversation."

For a moment, Harry simply gaped as the implication of Stark's words washed over him.

"You overheard our conversation?" he asked slowly, "All of it?"

"Yes," Stark admitted sheepishly but was quick to add, "But it's not just me! Everyone heard; even Steve!"

There was a chorus of protest from the other members but Harry barely heard them at all. He was still horrified by what he had just learned.

"Oh Merlin," Harry let his eyes close. This was a disaster. If Steve had heard what he had said, then he must now know about Maya. Harry couldn't even begin to imagine the hurt he must have felt. If Harry was in Steve's shoes and had learned that his soulmate had a child…No, he couldn't even think of it without shuddering. Poor Steve, no wonder he was no longer here.

"I am going to kill you," Harry hissed, taking a threatening step towards Stark, who yelped in alarm and went to hide behind the sofa.

"Harry," Fury put a restraining hand on his arm and Harry let out a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't know what is going on here, but I need you to call Rogers back here now."

"On it boss," Stark replied promptly, not even wincing at calling Fury boss. He avoided Harry's dark look as he fished out his phone and dialed.

As Stark tried to convince Steve to come back, Harry tried to come up with a coherent story to tell Steve without it sounding too fantastical. It wasn't working very well. In the end, Harry decided to forgo telling Steve about the existence of male pregnancies for now and go with a more acceptable "I am looking after her for a dead relative." He really didn't want to freak Steve out and push him away before their bond could solidify into something tangible.

"I really hope I'm not making the biggest mistake of my life," Harry mumbled to himself before deciding to hell with it, he didn't get here without taking some risk anyway.

 **Steve**

Steve walked slowly back to the meeting room, where he found Harry present but no one else. Half of him was grateful for the privacy, half of him was mournful for the lack of any distractions. It's not as if he didn't want to talk to Harry; it's more along the lines of he had no idea what to say. Should he apologize for eavesdropping first before demanding an answer? That would seem to be right thing to do. After all, Steve was, undeniably, also in the wrong here. Going along with Stark's little scheme had been extremely disrespectful in so many regards. Harry had the right to privacy and Steve had…

"Hello," Harry said softly, breaking Steve out of his thoughts, "Look Steve, I'm really sorry you had to learn about Maya this way."

"Just tell me," Steve said, voice breaking a little much to his horror, "Are you married?"

Harry blinked in surprise before bursting in to a peel of relieved laughter.

"Is that what you were worried about?" he said after his chuckles have calmed down, "No Steve, I am not married. Maya is my niece. I call her my daughter because her parents are dead and I am currently taking care of her. In all legal sense, she is my daughter. I didn't tell you because there weren't time."

"That I have to admit," Steve replied, feeling his whole body relax, "I'm sorry too, for overreacting. I never should have agreed to eavesdrop like that; you have right to your privacy and I disregarded that fact. You should be angry with me."

"No, no," Harry shook his head and took a step forward, bridging the gap between them some, "I'm just relieved we're ok. I don't know what I would have done if something came between us."

"We're stronger than that," Steve pointed out and Harry smiled, his expression soft and unguarded. Now that the tension was finally gone, Steve couldn't resist pulling Harry against him, the other man going willingly.

"This is extremely inappropriate," Harry said somewhat breathlessly as Steve stared in to his eyes. They were, he noticed, barely a few centimeters apart.

"I agree," Steve admitted, but did nothing to put some distance between them. He really shouldn't be doing this, especially considering how he was still on duty and anyone could walk in on them. Steve hadn't decided yet if he wanted everyone to know about his relationship with Harry. It wasn't as if he was ashamed, but he didn't know how the others would react. They really couldn't afford any undue tension within the team when Loki is still out there, creating havoc.

Don't get distracted.

But that was easier said than done, what with Harry looking so beautiful under the artificial lighting of the room. All Steve wanted was to bridge the gap between their lips and take what was his. He refrained through, because he knew that one taste would never be enough. He would want more and this was definitely not the time for more.

So they didn't kiss. They stayed like that for a few minutes, almost transfixed with each other's presence before the door slammed open and Stark strode in, successfully breaking the atmosphere.

"Hey! Are you guys-" He began before freezing in mid-sentence.

"Stark!" Steve hissed, face red. He finally took a step back and turned fully to face his colleague, "Why are you here?"

"I just came in to make sure you two hadn't killed each other," Stark said defensively. "But that's not important; what on earth did I just walk in on?"

"An intimate moment, that's what," Harry mumbled from behind Steve, "Terrible timing Stark."

"Wait…" Stark blinked as his mind worked overtime to incorporate the new variables in to his mental image of Steve and Harry. "You're lovers?"

"Will that be a problem Stark?" Steve asked, body going tense. This couldn't be happening now.

Harry snorted while Stark's eyes widened in alarm.

"Of course not!"

"Stark's bi," Harry explained, putting a hand on Steve's arm to calm him. It worked wonders and Steve felt his entire body relax. "Despite his other faults, no one can ever accuse him of being close-minded."

Stark looked offended but before he could retort, they were interrupted by another voice.

"Stark!" came Fury's voice beyond the door, "I told you to leave them be."

"Geeze dad," Stark rolled his eyes, arms crossed in aggravation. He looked the epitome of the teenage son about to get chewed out by his parents for staying out past curfew. "Sorry for showing some concern."

"Hey Harry," Steve said as Fury stalked in to the room, planted himself in front of the other man and promptly started to berate him about following orders, "Do you think I can meet Maya sometimes soon?"

"Of course," Harry answered happily, looking away from the spectacle before him "I would love nothing less than for you two to meet. Once things calmed down in New York, I'll make the arrangements."

"That's something to look forward to than," Steve said, mind already wondering how this whole fight with Loki will pan out.

"Stark!"

"Oww…that hurt…"

 **Part 3-4**

 **The Burrow, 2013**

"Welcome back, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she hugged him for all his worth.

"It's good to be back," Harry admitted, smiling. New York had been fun and seeing Steve again had been wonderful, but London would always be his home. Harry wondered if he could convince Steve to maybe move to London in the future. It was a longshot but Harry liked to think of their future now that he knew they actually had one.

"Where's Maya?" he asked, accepting a glass of water from the Weasley matron. He gulped down the cold liquid greedily before going to fill it up once more.

"She's taking a nap," Mrs. Weasley told him, and offered him a plate of cookies. Harry took one happily and sat at the table munching away. It was, of course, delicious.

Mrs. Weasley continued to talk as he ate. "By the way, did you know we have a new neighbor?"

"A new neighbor?" Harry repeated in surprise, and reflexively looked out of the window. "Really?"

"I was surprised as well," Mrs. Weasley smiled, "I heard from Mrs. Tin down the hill that his name is Kilo, no last name. What kind of name is that? Not that I'm one to judge of course but what kind of parents names their child Kilo?"

"Maybe it's a nickname," Harry offered, eyes still fixated on a small point in the distance where he could see a small house that hasn't been there before, "Did you speak to him?"

"Oh no dear," Molly shook her head, waving her wand in a circular motion to begin the dishes, "I didn't want a stranger around here when it's just me and Maya. But now that you're here, if you want to invite him over, I wouldn't mind. I'm pretty sure he's a wizard and not a muggle. At least, Mrs. Tin seemed to think so. Handsome lad, she had said, very respectful and all; he even helped her with her chores now that her magic wasn't what it used to be."

"Hmm," Harry pursed his lips in thought. "Well, I don't mind meeting him. It would be good to have an idea of who he was so that we can be sure he won't pose any danger to anyone around here."

"Then it's settled then," Mrs. Weasley clapped her hand happily at the thought of a dinner party. "Why don't you settle down and take a nap? I'll just pop over there and introduce myself to him."

"If you are sure," Harry yawned, already feeling the jetlag setting in, "I'm going to see Maya and go take a nap."

Mrs. Weasley gave him another hug before disappearing out the door.

He woke up to the sound of conversation somewhere in the kitchen.

Yawning, Harry cast a wandless Tempus and saw that barely 2 hours have passed. Maya was still asleep in her bed, her arms curled around her favorite teddy bear. Smiling at the cute image she made, Harry bent down to hiss her on the forehead before leaving the room.

Mrs. Weasley was indeed in the kitchen, but she wasn't alone. A young man in his mid-twenties sat at the table with her. He was good looking, Harry admitted, in an aristocratic sort of way. A wizard for sure, judging by the powerful aura surrounding him.

"Hello," Harry said a little wearily, still not sure if he was really to trust this stranger. There was something off about him, he decided. What he didn't know, but something was off.

"Hello" the man replied smoothly, looking up from his own plate of cookies, "You must be Harry, my name is Kilo. I just moved here."

"Yes, I heard," Harry said, moving forward to shake the man's outstretched hand. As he retreated, his eyes caught sight of an intricate cane the man held in his left hand; a cane with designs that were disturbingly familiar. Where had he seen them before?

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley interrupted his thoughts, "Dinner's ready, why don't you bring it out and we can all eat."

Despite not being hungry in the least, Harry agreed.

The next few minutes were passed in silence as everyone did their part to set up the dining table. Kilo occupied himself with the plates and Mrs. Weasley poured everyone a bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup. After everyone had eaten their first few bites, Harry asked: "When did you move in, Kilo?"

"Yesterday," the man replied, swallowing his bite before elaborating. "I'm a businessman you see, and my business brought me here for the time being."

"I have to ask," Mrs. Weasley said, cutting in, "Had your house always been there? I have never noticed it before."

"Oh yes," the man replied, "I bought it from the previous owner who had it under a Fidelius charm."

"That explained it," Molly nodded, "I thought it was weird how fast it came up."

"What kind of businessman are you?" Harry asked, intent on learning more about this stranger. The uncomfortable feeling hadn't dissipated yet and it was starting to frustrate Harry to no end.

"I don't have a set business," Kilo smiled, "Let's just say I'm currently trying to expand my territory."

"Right," Harry said dubiously.

Kilo gave him a big smile, the expression looking oddly out of place of his face. For some reason, Harry felt that a sneer would be more commonplace for this man.

"So, Kilo," Mrs. Weasley said, almost sensing the tension, "Tell me about yourself? Any children?"

"Oh no," Kilo replied, almost in a horrified tone. "I have an adoptive brother though and a domineering father."

"A domineering father?"

Kilo sighed, almost looking annoyed by the question before his expression cleared.

"He thinks he's the king of his domain," he smiled, but it wasn't a happy one, "And my brother…let's just say we don't have the best of relationships. Roth is my father's heir and he favours him immensely."

"That's terrible," Mrs. Weasley said, her tone hardening at the thought of any child being mistreated "All children should be treated the same."

"Unfortunately, that is not always the case," Harry couldn't help but interject, thinking back to his own childhood at the Dursleys.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a sympathetic look before smoothly changing the subject.

The rest of the dinner passed in companionable silence. Around 7, Kilo made his excuses and Harry bid him goodbye before going to tend to Maya. After feeding her and changing her diaper, Harry bought his daughter to the living room where Mrs. Weasley sat, knitting.

"Mr. Weasley not home yet?" Harry asked in surprise.

"No dear," Molly replied, looking up, "he has some work to do and won't be back until late."

Harry sat down opposite Mrs. Weasley and adjusted Maya's position so that she was now comfortably on his lap.

"So," he said, "What did you think of this new neighbor?"

"He seemed nice," Mrs. Weasley replied, "Polite but a little reserved. What did you think?"

"Something's off about him," Harry admitted, shifting a little so that Maya could wave her arms around happily, "I don't trust him."

"You don't trust anyone," Mrs. Weasley laughed a little, "Harry dear, you can be so much like old Alastor sometimes."

"At least I am better looking," Harry grumbled.

 **New York 2013**

 **Steve**

"I know I should be grateful," said Stark. They were sitting in their usual meeting room, Fury at the head, looking as solemn as ever in his ever present black garb, "But this whole situation is making me extremely nervous."

"I agree with Stark," Fury said before promptly looking sick. Steve choked on his tongue in his haste to contain his laughter.

"At least Clint is feeling better," Natasha said softly, mind going to her partner. After Harry's session with the archer, Clint was slowly recovering. Luckily, he retained little memory of the time he had been possessed/controlled by Loki.

"Yes," Fury nodded, "That is one thing in our favor. But…"

"This isn't like Loki," Bruce said, speaking up for the first time since the beginning of the meeting, "He should have acted by now. Why is he being so quiet?"

"A quiet Loki means big trouble," Steve mumbled to himself. "Is there any way to track him? How about Thor?"

"Thor is currently in Asgard," Fury sighed in the tone of someone who's plans are not coming along.

"We could train," Steve suggested. He turned to look at Stark, almost daring him to disagree with him. "It would be a good time for us to get ready for an eventual confrontation."

"I guess Cap's right," Stark sighed and Steve blinked in surprise. That was easy. Was this a sign that things were finally becoming less tense between them?

"If Stark agrees," Natasha shrugged, "I'm always up for some training.

"Training room 4 had been reinforced to support the Hulk's massive strength," Stark said, smiling at Banner, "Want to go try it out?"

"Are you sure Tony?" Banner replied, looking uncertain. Steve couldn't blame him for his reluctance; after what had happened the last time he had hulked out, no wonder he wasn't eager to let his other self loose again.

"Sure I'm sure," Stark clapped him on his back and got him to stand up; together they left the room.

"I'm going to go supervise," Fury said to no one in particular before leaving as well, leaving Natasha and Steve together.

"So," said Natasha and Steve tensed.

"What?"

Natasha smirked.

"So," she licked her lips, "You and that Lord Potter. How's that going?"

I will not blush, though Steve resolutely to himself.

"It's going great, thank you for asking."

"And about him suddenly having a daughter?"

"It's his niece," Steve told him, "Not that it's any of your business."

"Right, sure she is," Natasha drawled, standing up, "Well, I'll be joining the others then. Later Steve."

With that, she turned and left, leaving Steve wonder what she had meant.

* * *

 **TBC**


End file.
